Oh, It Is Easy For

Old Men, What Are They? Fast Fading The Leaf, Three-footed They Walk, Yet Frail As A Child, As A Dream Set Afloat In The Daylight.

Of All The Gods, Death Only Craves Not Gifts: Nor Sacrifice, Nor Yet Drink-offering Poured Avails; No Altars Hath He, Nor Is Soothed By Hymns Of Praise. From Him Alone Of All The Powers Of Heaven Persuasion Holds Aloof.

Since Long I've Held Silence A Remedy For Harm.

Every Ruler Is Harsh Whose Laws Is New.

For There Below Ground Sits The Dark God, Strong To Call Men To Judgment; He Sees All, And Writes It In His Memory.